


Anchor.

by Mazelike



Series: Great, Newtmas got me bloody inspired. [4]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kind of Soulmate AU, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazelike/pseuds/Mazelike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tattoos appear on your skin at random yet key moments of your life. You just have to figure out what they mean.<br/>For Thomas, it's really simple: he gets half an anchor on his forearm after touching Newt's hand. What is problematic though is that Newt is his best friend and... the blond has no idea about Thomas' feelings for him.<br/>The brunet freaks out and runs away, not knowing that Newt already has the other half of the anchor etched on his skin...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchor.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, this tattoo stuff is eating my brain... Sorry about that hehe!

It wasn't uncommon in this world to go to bed one night and to not be the exact same person when you went to sleep the following night. Things had started to change a couple of decades ago, as people had more and more diffculties to figure out who they were and what they wanted in life. That's what every parent taught their children when they started to grow up and to face their own lives.

In fact, not everyone woke up with a slight change, Thomas was aware of that. Some people knew perfectly what they were meant to be. Like Minho, for example. He was one of Thomas' best friends, and knew deep inside what he wanted. The Asian boy controled his life and therefore, didn't need any mark on his body to lead him in his choices.

The mark could be almost everything – small, big, black or colored, a drawing, a symbol, a word, sometimes just a letter. It was a tattoo that could appear anytime. It was kind of a random thing, yet it always appeared at key moments of your life. It always meant something, people just had to figure out their meanings, why it was here and what it meant for them.

Thomas had never thought he'd get one. He had always thought he was honest enough to know what he needed and wanted. He never thought he would get a tattoo. But that day, he definitely did.

 

That morning, Thomas woke up to a bright sun. Growling and mumbling, he blinked and rubbed his eyes vividely in a poor attempt to wake up. He stretched, ran a hand through his dark and messy hair and yawned loudly. His hand reached for his phone and he instinctively unlocked the screen of the device. He smiled fondly when he looked at his home screen, a drawing Newt had made of Thomas when the brunet was looking away.

His smile faded a little and suddenly, Thomas was completely down again. It had been three days. Three days since Newt had last talked to him for real. His blond best friend was obviously avoiding him and Thomas... He had no idea why. Minho had told him that it wasn't that bad, that maybe Newt was just tired or busy with school, but Thomas couldn't quite believe it. Newt had never acted like that before. And they had known each other for a while, so that wasn't a simple statement. They had known each other long enough for Thomas to know that Newt was okay but definitely and desperately avoiding him.

His whiskey eyes focused back on the screen and he didn't even react when he saw what time it was. He was late, and so what? Nobody except Minho, Teresa, Brenda and Frypan was waiting for him at school anyway. The brunet tried not to be that pessimistic, but Newt avoiding him was starting to be difficult. The blond used to have terrible mood swings, but never before had he ignored Thomas like that.

Thomas sighed. It was going to be another long day.

It started to rain ten minutes before Thomas arrived at school and he couldn't help but curse. With no umbrella and no real intention to stop the icy rain from drenching his hair and clothes, Thomas felt like he shouldn't even have gotten out of his bed that morning. He arrived at school completely soaked to the skin and feeling even worse than the previous day. However he looked up and tried to plaster a smile on his face as he spotted Minho and Teresa talking to Newt.

Newt was shaking his head almost violently and Thomas couldn't understand what he was saying, but he seemed agitated. Suddenly, the blond's eyes landed on him and Newt grew pale. In a second he grabbed his bag and disappeared. Thomas stopped in the middle of the hallway, unable to process what had just happened. Teresa turned around and her smile was the most shucking fake smile Thomas had ever seen as she gestured to him to come closer.

Feeling his body burn with shame and sorrow, the brunet didn't even greet his friends. He headed towards his first classroom, absolutely and positively sure that he shouldn't have woken up that morning.

The rest of the morning was absolutely as shitty as his arrival at school. Minho tried to talk to Thomas, who stubbornly held his gaze on the board or on his notebook. He couldn't help but ask himself what was wrong with Newt. Or worse, what was wrong with himself. From all people... He hadn't told anyone except Brenda, but surely the girl had kept her word and hadn't talked about it to anyone, even less Newt. The blond couldn't possibly know, could he?

Maybe he did, according to how panicked and disgusted he had looked when he had spotted Thomas. The brunet felt his eyes burn with unshed tears. He had tried for so long to just hide it because Newt was the most precious thing in his life and now... He didn't know what to do. Why did he always mess up?

It got worse at lunch, when the only seat availiable for Thomas was the one in front of Newt. He swallowed hard and looked down as he sat and took his fork in his hand. Neither him or Newt said a word but the conversation didn't need them anyway because Minho, Teresa, Brenda, Gally and Frypan were laughing and chatting loudly enough to make it up for Thomas' cerebral absence. Without paying attention, Thomas held his hand to grab the bottle of water in front of him. His hand connected with Newt's and... He groaned in pain and withdrew it as quickly as possible.

Everybody stopped talking and looked at him but Thomas didn't realize it at first. His forearm was burning and itching and the persistent pain made him look down at his skin. Painfully slowly, a black line was spreading on the inside of his forearm, shaping something he couldn't quite recognize. Until the lines started to connect. Until suddenly, the tattoo, the mark, started to make sense. An anchor. Half of it to be more accurate. The anchor wasn't complete: half of it was missing, like a missing piece of puzzle. It covered most of the left side of the brunet's forearm and was suddenly cut, like the other half was somewhere else.

But it didn't stop there. What made Thomas' stomach turn into stone was the little “N” that was shaped and etched at the base of the anchor. It wasn't enough that he had gotten an anchor when he had touched Newt's hand! It was ambiguous and hard enough to explain but no, it wasn't enough. The letter was the ultimate proof, the last thing that was going to make Newt run away for good because right now, Thomas had quite literaly his love for his blond best friend tattooed on his arm.

He bit his lips to stop the sob that was threatening to escape his lips and pressed his hand against the tattoo as best as he could.

“I'm gonn' take him to the nurse's office.”

Newt. If Thomas had been in his normal state, he would have noticed that Newt's voice was shaking with emotion – fear, happiness. In a matter of seconds the blond's hands were on Thomas' shoulders and he pressed them lightly, silently asking him to get up.

“I'm okay, I don't need your help.” Thomas let out in a breath, his cheeks burning. He stood up, holding his arm against his chest, ashamed to the max and passed Newt to go – somewhere else. It didn't matter where, he just needed to go.

“No, Tommy, please-” Newt started.

But Thomas didn't stop and he stormed out of the cafeteria, his arm to his chest. He stopped in the hallway, not knowing where to go. He wandered and ended up sitting in a corner where people didn't go much. He didn't want to see anyone. He just sat there, his arm still glued to his chest, his knees brought to his chin, his head resting there. Curled up on his arm, on that shucking tattoo, on that freaking mark that was going to end the only true friendship he had ever needed.

Thomas was used to being let down. His father had left when Thomas had turned sixteen, and had stopped caring for him and visiting him when Thomas had turned seventeen and had told him about how he felt about Newt. The man had thrown him out of his new apartment, yelling at him that he was just a waste.

His mother hadn't said a thing, but she wasn't happy about it either and as soon as she had found a new lover and Thomas had started to have a summer job, she had told him that it'd be good for him to have his own place. She hadn't lied and hadn't wasted time: two weeks later, Thomas had moved in a little flat, near school, far away from his mother.

Thomas had never told any of his friends about it, except for Newt but the blond boy didn't know half the story. He hadn't confessed his love, just explained that his mother didn't really feel like having him home with her anymore.

Thomas was used to being let down, though he had never thought, even in his worst nightmares, that the blond could abandon him. He didn't want Newt to leave him. Ever. They had been friends for so long and it was only Thomas' fault that he has started to develop that stupid and shucking crush on him. It wasn't Newt's fault that Thomas was fucked up and Thomas didn't want to destroy their friendship. He had pretended quite easily that nothing was happening, and at first, it had worked. Nobody knew, nobody realized it, and Thomas himself had started to feel like it had only been a fling.

Except that it turned out it wasn't. Thomas had been pinning on Newt for six months now. He hadn't stopped pretending. Nobody had noticed. That's when reality crushed him. Of course someone had noticed. Newt had been avoiding him for three days. Of course he knew. Of course he was going to avoid Thomas. Of course he was going to stop being his friend. And Thomas was going to loose the only thing that had ever mattered to him. Why in the world was he so fucked?!

The sound of irregular footsteps made Thomas' whole body tense.

“Go away. I'm pathetic enough, I don't need you to tell me it's not gonn' change a thing.”

“I'm not bloody going away.” Newt replied, sitting down next to Thomas.

“I don't need you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Don't go all witty on me.”

“I need you to listen to me carefully.”

“No... No...” Thomas started to budge again and started to get on his feet. In a second Newt was standing up next to him and caught Thomas' arm before he could run away. Thomas' tattoo immediately reacted to the touch and his forearm started to burn slowly. It was soft and almost reassuring but Thomas tried to get rid of Newt and the blond had to let go. Thomas started to quickly walk away and it took a couple of seconds for Newt to catch up. The blond gripped Thomas' wrist and forced him to turn around once more.

“I HAVE THE SAME YOU BLOODY MORON!”

Thomas stopped in his tracks and looked down to their arms. Newt's right hand had gripped Thomas' left wrist and the blond slowly moved their arms, revealing the other half of Thomas' anchor. And there, their arms next to each other's, Thomas realized it was even better than that: Newt's anchor was completing his perfectly. And on the base was etched... A “T”.

“See?” Newt breathed out.

“How – when did you – I didn't-”

“I got it four days ago when we shook hands in the morning.”

“But I didn't see it...”

“I've been wearing long sleeves ever since.”

“But why didn't you tell me?”

“Tell you what? That I've had a bloody crush on you for a year? That I have your bloody name tattooed on my forearm? And that buggin' hand shake didn't have the same effect on you. What was I supposed to do?”

“Yeah, I mean, avoiding me was way better right?”

“Don't go all witty on me.” Newt replied shamelessly, making Thomas look up. “Why didn't you tell me you liked me?” Newt asked.

“I – I didn't want to make you run away. I never thought you could – I mean... I never thought I could be that important to you...”

“Tommy?”

“I'm sorry... I thought I was messed up... I mean, falling in love with your best friend sucks, but when you're two guys it kinda – I though I was messed up...” Thomas repeated again.

“You aren't! No matter what anybody says, you're perfect.”

“I didn't -”

“If I kiss you to make you shut the Hell up, are you going to let me?”

Thomas blushed and looked down at their hands. Newt had entertwined their fingers and the tattoo was warm and tickling, sending a few sparks through Thomas' body each time the borders of their two marks connected and formed the perfect shape of the anchor.

“It burns...” Thomas murmured. Newt touched the brunet's chin to make him look up and pecked his lips softly. Thomas' whole body was suddenly pleasantly warm. “I think I'll get used to it.” He smiled. “Definitely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this no matter what and well... Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought!  
> I've been a little bit obssessed with tattoos lately annnnd this is what came to mind.  
> All mistakes are mine, I'm no native English-speaker, so I do apologize!  
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


End file.
